


Move like you stole it

by mickmillk



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Blow Job, Car Accidents, Car Chase, M/M, Smut, high speed chase with road head, not sorry, uhmmm thats really all this is, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickmillk/pseuds/mickmillk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High speed chases get Mickey Milkovich excited, so sue him. (Don't sue him he is v poor)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move like you stole it

**Author's Note:**

> got this as a prompt on tumblr and obviously had to write it. shoutout to ellie for reminding me that its REAR VIEW MIRROR AND NOT REVIEW IM AN IDIOT BYE

“IT’S STOLEN!?” Ian asks incredulously, turning around in the passenger seat to watch the police car approach fast on their tail. “I thought you said –“

“I didn’t say shit, Gallagher, just watch the fucking car.” Mickey’s eyes flick nervously to the rear view, then back to the road. He grips the steering wheel tightly with both hands and steps on the gas, weaving around angry drivers who flip him off and honk their horns. He ignores them.

He’s gonna fucking kill Steve. Or Jimmy. What the fuck ever.

This was supposed to be a sure thing. Pick up the car, drop it off somewhere else. No problem.

Well he’s gonna have a fucking problem, Mickey will make sure of that.

“M’gonna bash that fuckers head in,” Mickey growls, slamming his hands on the wheel. “Fuck!”

“Whose head?” Ian asks, turning to face him.

“Eyes on the pigs,” Mickey snaps back, ignoring the question.

He tries to keep his own eyes on the road, but the sirens are distracting and he can’t keep himself from continuously checking every mirror on the car. He’s gonna crash if he doesn’t keep his shit together, they’re up to 90mph and at this point, an accident will kill them both.

The thought causes him to lift off the gas pedal, but only slightly.

“There’s two now,” Ian warns him. “They’re gaining on us.”

Mickey looks to the rear view mirror once more and curses. He’s silently grateful that the car Fiona’s stupid fucking boyfriend told him to move is a fast one. They wouldn’t have made it this far without it. They also wouldn’t be in this situation without it, so. It’s a win/lose he supposes.

The surrounding cars are colored blurs as they race past, and Mickey can see the light ahead turning from green to yellow, and then to red before he can make it.

He doesn’t think about it, just pushes his foot down and shoots through the light.

-

He barely avoids a collision; the cars coming at him on either side slam on their breaks and fill the air with screeches that raise the hair on the back of Mickey’s neck. He hears the crunch of metal on metal as the traffic jam he’s just caused meets a violent end. It’s nothing serious, but he still allows himself to feel guilty for a moment before he’s pushing it out of his mind. He doesn’t need the distraction, Ian is causing enough of one.

“Holy shit!” Ian yells. “Holy shit did you see that!?”

Mickey ignores him and focuses on losing the police, and the fact that he still has to deliver this car, preferably in one piece.

He’s passed the drop off point, and if he doesn’t lose these assholes soon the car is going to be late.

He’d be in more trouble for that than if the cops caught them now.

“We’re down to one again,” Ian tells him, and Mickey glances in the rear view to see that one of the cop cars was involved in the little collision he’s responsible for.

It’s exhilarating, really.

He smirks to himself before he remembers that he’s supposed to be angry about all this.

“Reach in my pocket and grab my phone," he snaps. "Call Jimmy."

Ian whips his head around to glare at him, open mouthed. “JimmySteve!?” he yells, smacking Mickey upside the head. “THIS IS A JIMMYSTEVE JOB?!”

The smack catches Mickey off guard and he swerves partially into the right lane, narrowly missing a car.

“The fuck, Gallagher!?” he yells, rubbing his head with one hand, righting the steering wheel with the other. “Just fucking call him!”  

“This is a fucking job!?” Ian yells back accusingly. “ _Christ_ Mickey you just fucking got out, are you _trying_ to get back in?”

Mickey jerks the steering wheel hard to the left, effectively causing Ian to slam his head against the passenger side window. He doesn’t want to hear about juvie, the thought has crossed his mind a thousand times since he’s been in the car.

“Ow, FUCK” Ian yells, holding his hand to his head.

“Call him.” Mickey says simply, staring ahead.

Ian mumbles something under his breath and angrily reaches into Mickey’s pocket, feeling around for his phone.

He grabs something hard, but it’s not what he expects it to be.

“Yo!” Mickey exclaims, jerking his hips. “Watch the merchandise!”

A laugh bubbles out of Ian’s throat.

He really wants to be angry, they’re being chased by the fucking police because Mickey’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot with an undeniable boner.

Mickey is slightly embarrassed, but it’s not like he has time to focus on that so he lets it go.

Damn right he’s getting hard, this car chase is the most exciting thing that’s happened to him since Iggy let him sit shot gun in his last street race.

Ian has to admit, the chase is pretty thrilling.

He can see how Mickey might be turned on by it, the rush of running from the cops, of getting caught. The speed itself causes adrenaline to spike through his system, and the thought of Mickey getting off on this is causing Ian to start to stiffen in his pants as well.

He rubs Mickey’s semi through his jeans, and Mickey accidentally accelerates, throwing himself back into the seat.

“You tryin to get us killed!?” he swats Ian’s hand away, but Ian can see that the bulge in the front of his pants has definitely gotten bigger.

“You’re the one driving,” Ian counters, replacing his hand. “Be better at it.”

Mickey curses under his breath as Ian moves his palm against him. “Be better at it,” he mocks. “Yeah okay wise guy.”

He takes a sudden sharp left onto a one way street, and focuses on dodging the cars that are coming at him, swerving out of his way with their horns blaring.

The turn throws Ian face down into his lap, and Ian takes advantage of it.

“Think this is really the time for this?” Mickey wonders aloud, though he can’t deny that the thought of Ian sucking him off right now would be the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him. Aside from Ian himself.

“You tell me,” Ian mutters, unbuttoning the top of Mickey’s jeans.

He unzips his zipper next, and eases Mickey’s cock out of his boxers, stroking it lightly.

“Shit,” Mickey breathes, spreading his legs a little. “Put a fuckin seat belt on,” he tries demanding, but it’s a wasted effort.

Ian grins. “Well if I did then I wouldn’t be able to do this,” he responds, and sucks Mickey into his mouth.

Mickey almost comes on the spot.

“Fuck, Ian,” he hisses, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

Hearing his name makes Ian moan around him, and he starts to bob his head, the vibrations from the car leading up through Mickey’s leg, through his cock, into Ian’s mouth.

This is the hottest thing he’s ever done in his entire life.

Mickey is frustrated with how badly he wants to close his eyes, or thrust up into Ian’s mouth, and tries his damnedest not to wreck.

He looks in the rear view again to see that he hasn’t lost the police, but they’re definitely further behind him than they were before.

He takes advantage of the reprieve to take a sharp left down a random neighborhood street, then another once there’s a corner available to turn on.

The turn forces Ian’s mouth further onto him, and he gags on Mickey’s cock, sucking hard as he pulls of and comes up for air.

“Try doing less of that,” he suggests, his throat sounding raw. “Gonna end up biting it off.” He goes back down again, and Mickey’s toes curl.

“S’fucking comforting,” he mutters, and moans loudly when Ian does something with his tongue, effectively shutting him up.

-

He can no longer hear the sirens, and doesn’t see the police in his review anymore, so he risks a turn back onto the street to make it back to the drop off point. He’s got 15 minutes left.

Hopefully he comes before he gets there.

With the way Ian is working him, he could probably come twice before then.

His heart rate is settling, and he’s comfortable enough now to go a speed that won’t end in any fatalities.

He’s also comfortable enough to take one hand off the wheel to grab Ian’s head and card his fingers through his hair.

Ian hums appreciatively, and brings a hand up to play with Mickey’s balls, and Mickey bites his lip, stuttering out a “F-fuck, shit,” and brings his hand back up to the wheel to get some sort of control over his life.

“Cops are gone,” he breathes heavily, and Ian pops his head up to look out the back window.

“Don’t stop,” Mickey whines, and Ian grins before resuming his job.

Ian’s mouth feels so good, all wet and perfect. Mickey loves it, loves how Ian knows exactly what he likes and what he doesn’t, loves how he sucks hard but not too hard, how his tongue dances around his shaft, how he nips at his head and tongues over his slit, collecting the precum there before sliding back down.

He was into it before when the chase was feeding adrenaline straight to his cock, but now all he wants to do is get this job over with and get Ian inside of him.

Wants to take it slow, a dramatic counter to how his day as been going so far.

His thoughts are distracting enough that he almost misses his turn, and he slams on the brakes before whipping around the corner, the car behind him honking in protest of the lack of a turning signal.

The movements of the car cause Ian to deep throat again, and Mickey subconsciously bucks his hips into Ian’s mouth, coming down his throat with a loud groan.

Ian coughs and spits it out, coming up to wipe the jizz off his face while Mickey laughs.

“How bout a warning next time, shit head!” Ian sputters, smacking Mickey upside the head for the second time that evening.

“Ow, shit!” Mickey laughs. “I’m sorry, shit we almost missed the fuckin turn” he says defensively.

“Well pay attention next time,” Ian huffs indignantly.

“What, next time you’re blowin me durin a fuckin high speed chase?”

Mickey’s eyebrows are in his hair line and he’s smirking, and Ian can’t help but to smirk back because _fuck_ , that really just happened.

They really just escaped the cops in a stolen car while Mickey’s dick was in his mouth.

He laughs out loud, and Mickey shakes his head, still grinning, lacing their fingers together where their hands rest between the seats.

* * *

 

Later Mickey gets a call from an angry JimmySteve asking about white stains in the front seat.

Mickey hangs up on him. Figures it’s sufficient enough payback that he doesn’t have to bash any skulls.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> FUN FACT move like you stole it is the song that plays in the club when mickey kisses ian (we all know which scene im talking about) and it just so happens to fit perfectly as the title for this fic for obvious reasons so yay. 
> 
> this was hella fun to write. come chat with me at hesfuckingfamily.tumblr.com 
> 
> all comments/asks are welcome :D


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